


Every New Beginning

by remy (iamremy)



Series: 12 days of wincestmas - 2020 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Dean Winchester, POV Second Person, Spoilers from Season 5 to Season 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: one night you realize you love him, you love him in a way you shouldn’t, in a way you can never tell anyone, least of all him because he is not here. he is miles and miles and miles below your feet, so far out of your reach that you can’t even imagine it, and your chest hurts so sharp and vindictive you can’t breathe.and here’s the thing – without him, you don’t want to.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: 12 days of wincestmas - 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601026
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76





	Every New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sintari (OriginalSintari)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/gifts).



> hello again! i've tried something different here, it's a departure from my usual style, i hope it's not too off-putting!

missing him is like missing a limb, like missing a vital organ, like he ripped your heart out of your chest and held it between his palms as he jumped. you can’t close your eyes for fear of replaying it over and over again, and it burns you from the inside out because he was so, so afraid, and he did it anyway. he saved the whole fucking world, and he damned himself to do it, and in doing so he damned you too.

you wake up in the middle of the night, every night, tears drying on your face, and it hurts in that place where your heart should be, phantom pains in your chest, and your hands search for the amulet and never find it, and you hate yourself. it should be you down there, it should be you, for this action if nothing else. this is the biggest wrong of your life and you can never right it.

and one night you realize you love him, you love him in a way you shouldn’t, in a way you can never tell anyone, least of all him because he is not here. he is miles and miles and miles below your feet, so far out of your reach that you can’t even imagine it, and your chest hurts so sharp and vindictive you can’t breathe.

and here’s the thing – without him, you don’t want to.

* * *

he comes back – or at least, most of him does, and you want to tell him, you _need_ to tell him, to hold that beloved face between your hands and look him in those stunning eyes and say _i love you, i love you, it’s always been you_ –

but something is missing in there, and whatever it is, it holds your tongue until you swallow the words back down, shove your hands deep in your pockets and force a smile, and whisper to yourself, _coward coward coward_.

your heart is still missing.

it does not return until death asks you to choose, and you don’t hesitate, and you really should care about the soul you damn with his name, but you don’t. all you care about is right there in front of you, finally whole, and you can finally feel your own pulse again. and you hold him in your arms, and you lie to him, and you tell yourself, _not now, not now, not now_.

* * *

he is damned anyway. again, he is damned, over and over again, the devil riding shotgun, your fingers pressed into his palm, and your own heart breaking every time you catch sight of his tired eyes and thin body. you want to fix him, you want to fix the world, and you want bobby back, but most of all you want him to _know_.

and still the words won’t come out of your mouth. and still the time is never right, you are never drunk enough to say it or sober enough to think about it. and he doesn’t sleep at night, you don’t either, and both of you pretend you aren’t watching him every minute of every hour of every night.

 _i’ll say it_ , you tell yourself the night before you go for dick roman’s ass. _we’ll win, and i’ll finally tell him_.

you never get the chance.

* * *

you spend a year fighting to come back to him, mowing down anything and anyone in your path, struggling on even when you’re too tired to go on. you need to go back to him, to find him and hold him and tell him you love him–

and then you find out about her, and you hate the way her name sounds in his mouth, you hate how his eyes look when he speaks about her, and you hate that you can never get the chance to tell him. half of you is so irrationally afraid that he really will choose her over you, and you make no effort to stop the cruel words from leaving your mouth. those, you don’t swallow. those, you spit out in his face, and you pretend it doesn’t hurt the way his face shutters, the way he looks away from you.

he’s yours. she has no fucking _right_.

vindication feels good when he chooses you. green is not your color, and you’re glad you can stop wearing it now. he’s yours, and it’s about time he knows it.

and then he’s taking on the burden that should have been yours, coughing up blood and growing ever thinner and still, _still_ fighting on. he is the bravest, strongest person you know, and the thought of losing him has you cold all over. you never want that phantom pain in your heart back again. you never ever want to exist in a world that doesn’t have him in it. 

* * *

you didn’t have enough time with him, you think. your body is numb as you sit vigil by his. you could spend eternity with him and it will never be enough.

he is going to hate you for what you’re about to do. you hate you for it. but if it means he won’t leave you, if it means he’s by your side…

it’s not an excuse. it’s barely even a good reason. you just don’t care. your life is nothing without his, and you can’t feel your pulse again.

and you were right. he hates you. your heart sits dead in your chest as you watch him cry, and he hates you, and you hate you, and nothing in the world really matters anymore when he looks at you like he can never trust you again.

maybe, you think desperately, maybe if you go down taking abaddon he will love you again. maybe he will remember you with fondness and a smile and not tears and heartache. it’s more than what you deserve, and yet you hope.

 _i lied_ , he tells you, and you know he did, but it feels like a weight off your shoulders anyway. you don’t have much longer, but you are strangely at peace with it because he’s here with you, and your pulse is strong in your wrist and in your chest. you can barely speak for the blood in your mouth, and you want nothing more than to tell him just how much you love him, but that wouldn’t be fair. not when you won’t be around for whatever comes after. you’ve already hurt him too much. the best thing you can do for him right now is spare him this.

so instead you say, _i’m proud of us_ , and you smile, and the last thing you think is that if you had to die, you’re glad it’s in his arms.

* * *

except you don’t. your eyes are black and your blood sings for violence, and all you can think of is crushing him. you chase him through the home you share with him and you hear him plead and you don’t care. you loved him, back when you were capable of it. and you will never admit it but you are afraid that you still do. as long as he’s breathing, you will be afraid of that potential weakness.

he saves you, though. somehow, he always does. and for a while things are good. for a while, you believe your own lies, and you tell yourself that you’ve got this under control, that the two of you will be all right. and you want to finally tell him, but that thing on your arm won’t let you. it doesn’t want him to know. the confession feels too much like a weapon that he can hurt you with, though you know he would never. he doesn’t have it in him to cause you pain. he loves you too much even when he shouldn’t.

and he really shouldn’t. but he does, despite your pointed words, _it should be you up there_ , and he does, even when seeing his face makes your blood roar instead of calming it, and he does, even down on his knees in front of you. he loves you, with tears in his eyes and pictures of your mother on the ground between the two of you, and he loves you even when he knows that you’re about to kill him.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, and faced with that, nothing else in the whole world matters.

 _close your eyes, sammy_.

you love him.

you swing.

* * *

you hold his hand tight in your own as the darkness rages around you, and you stay up at night when he’s asleep, and you watch him breathe and you watch him dream and you feel sick with how much you want her. it’s not real, but it feels like it is, and you are so afraid of what will happen if you ever have to choose.

he loves you, and you love him, and neither of you say it. he is afraid you won’t say it back. you are afraid that maybe, you won’t mean it.

you need to fight this, you need to beat her. it’s not real, you tell yourself. what you feel for her could never ever compare to what you feel for him.

and then he dies. you return to a cabin in the woods to find him still and lifeless on the floor, and every cell in you is screaming, every part of you wants to lie down next to him until death takes you too, but duty calls, and you have to go. you leave your heart with him before you go, though.

you don’t want to live in a world that doesn’t have him in it. you never have. the decision is easy. you’ll sell whatever bullshit you need to if it means you get him back. and if you can’t – you’ll just follow him. anything to be with him. _anything_.

it turns out to not be necessary. he saves you yet again. _tell him_ , your soul screams at you. you almost lost him, and it’s one time too many, and you are so, so afraid that you will never get the chance again. she does not even register in your mind anymore. she is nothing compared to him. she could never hope to matter to you even a fraction of how much he does.

you pull the car over.

you take a deep breath.

you reach out, frame that beautiful face with your hands.

he is not breathing. neither are you.

he waits. you wait too.

and then you lean in.

you kiss him.

a moment.

another.

and then he kisses you back.

 _i love you,_ you whisper when you part. _god, sammy, i love you, i love you so fucking much, i love you, i love you_ –

years and years of not saying it, of holding it in, it all pours out now. you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

and he smiles, and he leans his forehead against yours, and he whispers, _i love you too,_ and you finally feel your heart beating again, in perfect rhythm with his. _  
_

your soul is complete. your heart, too.

he loves you, and you love him, and nothing else in the whole wide world matters more than this.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually really happy with this one, this is one of my favorite fics that i wrote for this event, and i hope you all liked it too! please let me know what you thought in the comments :) 
> 
> love,  
> remy


End file.
